My father nods, his eyes curious but also a little fearful of my answer.
“I love him more than I ever knew possible,” I tell him honestly.
Frowning, my father tilts his head. “Then why did you let him get on that plane?”
I tug my hand free from my father’s elbow and actually glare at him. “Why? Why?”
“Yes, why?” he repeats blandly.
“Because I seem to remember you yelling at him in my room not that long ago that he wasn’t good enough and he was trying to take advantage of me. You and Mother press suitor after suitor on me, and they’re all rich or have royal lineage. Why in the hell do you think I let him get on that plane?”
I expect my father to be chagrined.
Apologetic for sure.
Instead, he rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Camille … you do remember that your mother was neither rich nor of royal blood when I fell in love with and married her?”
My jaw drops. I’d not thought of that once. “But… that was a breach of…”
“Nothing,” my father points out. “Tradition is nothing but that. It’s not a rule or a law.”
“But you want me to marry a royal or at least someone wealthy,” I insist.
My dad tilts his head, lifting his shoulders. “Given the presence of anything better, yes, I’d prefer someone equal to your station. But I’m actually quite offended you wouldn’t think your mother and I would want anything less than true love for you.”
“Well, yes… I knew you wanted me to fall in love, but I thought it had to be someone equal to my station.”
Smiling as if he thinks I’m the most precious thing ever, he pulls me into his arms and says, “No one in this world could ever equal you, but if I had to take a guess, Mr. Gale is about as close to perfect for you as I can surmise.”
I take a few steps back from my father, my mouth agape. “Are you serious?”
“This is not something I’d joke about,” he grumbles, wrinkling his nose. “I did find the man in your bedroom, a fact I’m still not happy about. But I suppose—”
His words are cut off as I fling myself into his arms, so very grateful that he opened a gate for me.
But … it’s only one gate to the problematic fence surrounding us. I pull away, chewing at my lower lip in consternation.
“What is it?” he asks with concern.
My eyes lift to meet his. “It’s just… I don’t know that Jackson would want to come to Bretaria to be with me, to make this his home. He loves what he does. He’s good at it. He loves his country.”
“Does he love you?” my father asks, and it seems it’s a little late to be asking that, but I nod absentmindedly.
Does he love me enough to give up his life? That’s really what it boils down to.
The sudden realization that I’d be asking him to do something monumentally life-changing and to leave something he loves… I just… can’t.
I shake my head. “He’s happy where he’s at and with what he’s doing.”
“I’ve no doubt,” my father agrees. “But how do you know he can’t be happy here?”
I shrug. “He’s all about action and adventure. I don’t think the life of a royal would fulfill him.”
“You’ve never talked about it?” my father asks.
“Of course we haven’t talked about it. We never made it past the fact he wasn’t a royal and doesn’t have money, so he was unsuitable.”
“My dear,” my father drawls, “did you two even talk at all?”
My face flames, turning hot from the connotation. We did talk. Of course, we did. But we spent a lot of time not talking. That’s not something I want to admit to my father.
Instead, I refuse to get my hopes up over something that probably is not going to happen because Jackson wouldn’t want this life. I’m pretty sure I know him well enough to make that supposition.
“Let’s get you off to bed, and then I’m going to my own bed to sleep for the next twenty-four hours.”
I slip my hand in the crook of his elbow and take a step toward the stairs. I’m halted by his failure to move, so I glance up at him. He’s rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“You know,” he says slowly, as if he’s still playing things out in his head, “I could release you as heir.”
“What?” I gasp, and then immediately take stock of how that makes me feel. I shake my head. “No. I love Bretaria too much to give up my role in caring for it. Jackson absolutely understood that and knew that’s what would make me happy.”
My father’s eyes light up with delight. But he smiles again, this time as if he has the best idea ever. “Then how about a sabbatical?”